


to lie like you lie

by sunandoceanblue



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alpha Ren, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Hux is a schemer, M/M, Masturbation, Omega Hux, Post TLJ
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-20
Updated: 2018-07-07
Packaged: 2019-05-25 23:30:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14987924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunandoceanblue/pseuds/sunandoceanblue
Summary: Ren is Supreme Leader. Hux needs a plan.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i'm still new to a/b/o and i'm making a lot of this up as i go. enjoy.

Hux’s days were limited.

It was a fact, an inevitability. Of course, everyone was the same; each being only had so many days in the galaxy. But Hux’s time was running out at an alarming rate. Perhaps even an hourly rate. With Snoke, Hux had a sense of value. Snoke needed someone to hold the Order together for him. That someone had been Hux and he took an immense amount of pride in it. He wielded power over armies and factions and troopers and gangs and benefactors.

But Snoke was dead.

Ren took his place.

It should have been Hux.

Hux paced his quarters at a rapid, near frantic rate. He had been up for sixty hours straight. He was shaking from his latest stim intake. Too many in the period he’d been up. But caf was failing him. He didn’t dare sleep or even lie down. He didn’t sit on his sofa, not even rest his feet for a few moments. They ached in his boots. Everything ached. His head pounded and reeled. The ground broke apart under him, like the waves crashing against the cliffs on Arkanis. They dragged him down and drowned him.

He shook his head fiercely. Now wasn’t the time theatrics.  He had to focus. Focus. He needed a plan of attack. He needed to be ready for anything.

He needed a drink.

He half walked-half stumbled to the kitchenette and caught himself on the counter. He pulled a bottle of bourbon from his liquor cabinet, popped off the lid and downed a shot. Slammed the bottle down. Slumped against the counter. Coughed. He wasn’t a cocky Academy youth anymore. It had been so easy back then.

What was becoming of him?

Everything had fallen apart so quickly. Merely days ago, Hux was giving his speech on his gorgeous _Starkiller Base._ Now, that was nothing but debris and stardust. The _Supremacy_ , the beautiful ship he had coveted for years, had been torn in half. And Kylo Ren, the man he despised above all others except maybe his father, was the Supreme Leader. Hux’s new ruler. Hux almost spat on the floor. Ruler. Ren was going to drive the Order into the ground. He didn’t care about anything except his own personal gain. Hux knew he didn’t take up the throne because he wanted to lead the First Order to victory; he took up the throne so no one else could. So no one else could upstage him. Someone like Hux, whose first command would have been to Ren vaporise in the most painful way possible.

When Hux straightened, his own pain flared up. The bruises were healing quickly, with the liberal amounts of bacta he’d been using. They disgusted him. The pain had been unbearable at first. Adrenaline got him through the first few hours, but during the chaos, he wasn’t able to receive immediate medical attention. He knew his body would fail him if he didn’t care for it correctly but there just wasn’t enough hours in a cycle. He had far more pressing issues to deal with.

For example, Ren had requested an audience with him. Hux wasn’t going to attend. What was the point? He’d most likely be sharing the same fate as Snoke. Why make things easier for Ren? If he were going out, Hux would go out on his terms.

No.

He couldn’t think like that. He had to prove to Ren that he was worth keeping around. He was valuable. He ran the entire Order. Ren would drown in the responsibilities. Hux would gladly handle them and more if it meant staying alive. He was the lifeblood of the Order. Without him, they’d disintegrate into chaos. He was vital.

He just had to convince Ren of this matter. It would no doubt be a difficult task to achieve; Ren vehemently despised him and refused to see Hux on equal standing as him. He refused to recognise any non-Force user as equal. Ren believed himself to be the greatest power in the galaxy. That may have been so, but it didn’t give him the right to act like an arrogant twat all the time.

It was suicide to make Ren wait for him but Hux resolved to keep it that way. Ren could come to him and Hux would either fall like a soldier or plead his case if given the time. He prepared for more violence. Ren’s temper was unpredictable at best and chaotic at worst. Hux should know; he spent years testing the man. Ren had never reacted violently. It wasn’t his place. But now, with Snoke slain, Ren reigned supreme. He could do whatever he wanted.

For a moment, Hux wished he had been a lot nicer to Ren. He should have just swallowed his pride and befriended the man. He wouldn’t be standing here, neck throbbing, one side of his body purple. He’d perhaps be in Ren’s good books, his right-hand man. His next in command. If he had laughed at Ren’s wit and applauded his talent, maybe Ren would have kept him close instead of pushing him away.

Or perhaps not. Hux couldn’t tell which thoughts were his, which were Ren’s, and which were Snoke’s. He didn’t understand the Force. He didn’t know all that Snoke could do. He knew he toyed with Ren, tormented him. Had Snoke gotten into his own head too? Were his thoughts on Ren his own?

He never had to concern himself with Snoke again. It was one step forward and two steps back, however. Now he had Ren to deal with and there was no leash holding Ren back. If there had ever been one to begin with. Hux couldn’t process this situation. Too much happened in too short a time. He didn’t have the time to experience emotions.

He needed to freshen up for the Supreme Leader. If he was going to grovel and beg (if it came to that, which it wouldn’t), he wanted to look decent while doing so. It wasn’t that he wished Ren to view him as attractive; Hux knew he was attractive and didn’t need Leader Ren’s approval. It was merely customary for one to look presentable for one’s superior. However, if Ren’s eyes did so happen to wander over him, as they did in the early years of their co-commandship, Hux wouldn’t object. He preened whenever someone—especially a hungry alpha—undressed him with their eyes. He took it as a high form of compliment. He deserved to be desired.

There was a time when Ren did find him attractive. Years ago, when Hux was a lieutenant, on the race to climb the ranks, and Ren had been a restless, snarling knight. Ren skulked through the halls of the ship, looking to pick a fight with anyone he could. Completely unashamed. Fuelled by anger and passion and want. In those days, Ren told Hux precisely what he thought of him. Every nasty insult, every perverse thought. Hux used to touch himself to the sounds of Ren’s growls, replaying them over and over. Too often he got swept up by Ren’s attention. Too often he found himself on his knees, on his back, face smothered in a pillow, with Ren growling in his ear everything Hux wanted to hear.

That was long before _Starkiller_. Those looks of desire eventually turned into looks of venomous hate. Any of their trysts were purely to ease frustrations, clinical and necessary.

Hux couldn’t remember the last time Ren touched him, let alone with his bare fingertips. Ren touched him with the Force. There had been an abundance of that during the Battle of Crait. Would Ren do that once more? Would Hux die with the cold hand of the Force crushing his windpipe? He was sure that his end had come in the throne room. For a moment, he thought Ren wouldn’t let up. What a pathetic way to go. Similarly, when Ren tossed him against the wall of the command shuttle, he thought he had met a more painful end.

But he survived. He had been surviving the past thirty-four years.

He headed for the ‘fresher, intending to take a quick sonic. Perhaps he’d even put on a fresh uniform. Surely Ren would approve of that. Hux would smooth down his hair, shave maybe. If he had time, he’d polish his boots. He’d put on a nice cologne. Something that suited Ren’s own aroma. Not that Hux would ever be able to mimic that; Ren smelt of subtle smoke and earth. Hux didn’t have anything like that. All his colognes were neutral. Except one he once acquired on shore leave that smelt of berries. He had worn it a few times for Ren. Perhaps he could put some on now.

What was he doing? Why did he give a damn about how he smelt? He very well could be executed by the end of the cycle. Or thrown in some dark, dirty cell.

Hux ran a shaking hand through his hair. To hell with the sonic. He was showering with water. He sat on the foot of his bed and removed his boots. It might be his last day alive, but he would still take care of his uniform. He wasn’t a heathen. Once removed, he stripped his uniform piece by piece and set it on the end of his bed. He’d polish his boots after his shower and prep his uniform for cleaning.

Now nude, he entered the ‘fresher and swiftly turned on the shower, setting the heat to one of the highest degrees possible. It had been weeks since he’d bathed with water and hot water at that. He held his hand under the stream and nearly moaned at the sensation. It sent a shiver up his spine. His nipples hardened and his skin prickled.

Hux stepped into the shower cubicle and exhaled as the hot, steaming water ran down his body. He deserved this. He deserved long, luxurious baths every night, the water scented with oils and a wine glass in his hand. He deserved someone washing his hair, caressing his skin under the water, whispering how radiant he looked in the low lighting.

In his mind, the imaginary touches took on the shape of Ren’s large, calloused hands and Hux shivered. Not an image Hux wanted to associate with his coveted relaxation. Ren was incapable of gentle touches. Each time they fucked in the past, Hux’s skin would be mottled purple and he’d have to fight the ache in his body with each step. It was glorious. Who wouldn’t want a big, strong alpha taking them from behind, while they were moaning, slick gushing down their thighs like in an obscene holo-porn?

Hux’s skin flushed with the specific imagery. Or rather, memory. Whenever he and Ren were forced to work together, often the night ended with Hux shoved over the console as Ren rumbled above him and snapped his hips viciously.

It was a shame that had stopped. Hux hadn’t found a suitable partner since. He hadn’t the time to go out searching for a worthy alpha. Besides, toys were far more efficient, and no matter how lovely an alpha knot was, it didn’t vibrate.

Perhaps if he’d kept Ren more satisfied, Hux wouldn’t be bracing himself for his potential demise.

Surely, Ren wouldn’t be that petty. Hux almost rolled his eyes. Ren had killed men for less. Hux had well and truly fucked himself over this time. There was no talking his way out of this, no accident he could arrange, no one higher up he could bitch to. He was about to face potentially the most powerful man in the galaxy. Perhaps for the last time.

Hux bathed and tried to take his mind of what was to come. His soap was non-regulation. The cheap shit from commissary irritated his sensitive skin. He lathered up his arms in the sweet, fragrant suds. His mind, unfortunately, wandered once more. This time, to the rare times when he or Ren would stay in the other’s quarters overnight. They’d be exhausted from their fuck, swear they were only closing their eyes for a moment, just resting. The next thing Hux knew, he’d be plastered to Ren, legs tangled, head pillowed on that broad chest. Then there’d be curses and rushing around. They’d shower together to save time. Ren would always wash Hux’s back, then his thighs, his stomach, his...

Hux wrapped his hand around his cock, giving a light tug. If this indeed was his last day, he may as well indulge. He usually brought himself off in the shower with hasty fingers. No mess, no time wasted. Maybe he could take his time at last. He stroked himself languidly, tried to savour it. It wasn’t as arousing as he’d expected. He couldn’t coax himself to full hardness. Fucking terrific. He was going to die unsatisfied.

He gave up on his shower after that. He patted himself dry with a fluffy, monogrammed towel before slipping into his favourite robe. It was warm and soft and had the First Order Sigel on the breast and the left shoulder. His hands shook as he tied the sash. His nerves were returning. He contemplated another shot of bourbon but perhaps confronting Ren drunk would significantly lessen his chances of survival.

Tea would help. Tea always helped. Hux padded to the kitchenette and searched through his tea stash. A small collection built up from shore leaves, travelling to planets and plucked from the lounges of the Star Destroyers he visited.

Before he could pick one, the door to his quarters opened. Hux startled, dropping the tea satchels back into their container. No one on his ship had higher access than him. No one had clearance to his quarters. That could only mean one terrible thing.

Supreme Leader Ren stormed into the room, jaw tight and fists clenched.

Hux straightened and drew his robe tighter around his body. “Supreme Leader, I didn’t expect—”

“Where have you been?” Ren’s eyes burned brightly under his lowered brows. His nostrils flared and he bared his teeth. Like a damn animal.

 “I’ve been right here.”

“I requested your presence.”

“And I ignored your request.”

For a moment, Ren could only stare. Hux was a little surprised at the bold response himself. The last time they’d been in the same confined space together, Ren had sent him flying into the wall, effectively rendering Hux unconscious. A complete power move, showing off his dominance. Terror gripped Hux when he first woke. But that terror turned to fury and had been building up inside him since.

A low rumble vibrated through Ren. Did the man growl at him? He truly was such a wild beast. Of course, Hux already knew that; he’d collected a lot of evidence over the years in the forms of finger-shaped bruises and bite marks.

Ren stalked closer and in three long strides, he trapped Hux against the wall. “Haven’t you learnt your lesson yet?” he asked, bringing his face close to Hux’s.

“My lesson?”

“It’s a very simple one. You do as I say, or you die.”

Hux jerked his chin up, defiant to the end. “Is that so?”

Ren’s lip curled back again and he opened his mouth to say something. Then closed it. He tilted his head, his furious expression relaxing into a confused one. His eyes fell from Hux’s face. Hux wasn’t sure what had so suddenly captured Ren’s attention. Perhaps it didn’t matter; whatever it was had stopped Ren from crushing his windpipe.

Ren dipped his head. His hair tickled Hux’s nose. He was breathing audibly, chest heaving as Ren drew closer still. His nose bumped against the underside of Hux’s jaw, trailing down slowly to Hux’s neck, right over his scent gland.

Oh.

He had just showered. He wasn’t wearing any scent neutraliser. He was naked, his status on display. He hadn’t gone to a single shift on the _Finalizer_ without heavily masking his scent. Even in his handful of rendezvous with Ren, Hux carefully muted it.

It was terrifying to be so exposed.

“Ren,” he whispered, voice breaking.

Ren tensed before him, hands curling into tight fists against the wall. Hux sensed his dilemma; press up against Hux, scent with him, take him, knot him. Or get back to business. Ren was now his superior. He had an example to set, rules to lay down. He came to teach Hux a lesson. Or perhaps he came to dispose of an inconvenience. A threat to his throne. Would his first order be for Hux to bow down to him or present to him?

Hux kept still, too wound up to breathe. He wanted to melt into the wall and disappear. It was humiliating enough he was caught in his bathroom but to have Ren so overcome by hormones before him, made Hux’s cheeks flush. His mentors at the academy would call him shameful for being so careless.

With a snarl, Ren turned on his heels and left as swiftly as he entered. Hux didn’t move for a very long time, a part of him believing Ren would return at full force, saber ignited, just when Hux thought he was safe. But Hux was left alone. Before his legs could give out under him, Hux staggered to the couch and sat, quietly trying to catch his stolen breath.

Well, that was certainly interesting. It was nice to know that Ren still desired him. Nicer yet to learn that that fact infuriated Ren. Hux had burrowed his way under the alpha’s skin, infected him. His mere presence physically affected Ren. For this brief moment, Hux had become untouchable.

He could use this to his advantage.

Hux recovered from his shock of Ren’s visit. Rising on weak legs, he poured himself another shot and downed it in seconds. He leant against the wall, fingers stippled beneath his chin. This was his chance of survival.

Was it ideal? Of course not. It was rather grim, honestly. Though he was never above playing dirty to rise through the ranks. He’s used his influence, his body, his name. But this next move would be a full commitment. He couldn’t just sink to his knees or bend over for a few minutes. It was the long game. The really long game, if he goes as far as he was planning.

The facts were that Ren was an incredibly possessive and dominating person. He had immense power, a high title and a strong status. He thought himself above all others for these reasons. He knew what he wanted and he took it. Hux knew that very well, and very personally from the few flings they’d had. While these were no doubt strengths, Hux could twist them into weaknesses. It was what he was good at.

This plan would take a good deal of time. Winning Ren over wouldn’t be easy. But Hux could use his status to his advantage, as was proved before; the unmasked scent quite possibly saved his life. Hux would milk that for all it was worth. He’d wean off his scent neutralisers, and perhaps his suppressants, too. He hadn’t had a heat in years but he must make sacrifices. Surely an alpha like Ren would make the experience worth it.

He’d start immediately.  His survival was vital.

* * *

Hux hadn’t turned heads like this in a long time. Not since he was a cadet, oozing with hormones. He strode down the hallway of the _Finalizer_ , flicking sharp looks at any personnel that dared to look his way for a second too long.

His thick coat did little to mask his natural aroma. He personally never understood the big deal about scents and why everyone lusted over them. In his youth, he was put on strong neutralises along with his suppressants to keep the bothersome side effects of his status in check. As a cadet, his mentors told him an unmasked scent like his would drive even the hardest working officer wild. They told him it was his duty to the Order to cover up his status. He didn’t want others to grow distracted from their duties merely because he was walking past. He wished there was a way to ease off the neutralises more gradually. But since these were applied topically, there was really no way around it.

If anything, he’d catch Ren’s attention sooner.

The Supreme Leader was on the bridge, thankfully. Hux didn’t want to go straight to Ren’s office right away. There was no fun in that. Ren couldn’t react with officers around him. Well, he could; no one would really stop their ruler from doing what he wanted. However, Ren needed to earn their respect. He despised being made a fool. If Hux did succeed in catching Ren’s attention, Hux would no doubt be reprimanded by his Supreme Leader, possibly privately. Hux’s plan involved precisely that. Give Ren a whiff of his supposedly intoxicating smell, then get him alone. Preferably in a small space with a hard, flat surface.

Hux marched up to Ren, head held high and proud. Ren didn’t turn around. He stood there, staring out the viewport, out into the emptiness of space. Hux wondered if he saw something different to what they all saw. At the moment he did because, while Ren ignored him, Hux could sense a dozen other eyes on him. He flicked a sharp look around at the officers, who all hastily returned to their screens. At least he still had some form of control over them. Hux dreaded the day he gave an order and no one answered him.

Ren turned to face him.

If he noticed Hux’s raw scent, he didn’t show it; his face remained stony and impassive. Sleepless nights shadows his eyes and his jaw was tight. Hux couldn’t recall the last time he’d seen Ren at ease. He wasn’t sure the man was capable of that. Ren referred to himself as a vessel of the Force and some days Hux believed that to honestly be the case. There had been times when Hux had crossed Ren’s path, when he was training as a Knight of Ren, and bore no evidence of personality and individuality. Though Hux knew this wasn’t the case because there were also times when Ren was opinionated and stubborn. Hux couldn’t deny that Ren was smart, incredibly so. He had a dry wit and had made passing comments that forced a smile or even a quiet laugh out of Hux. Not that he’d ever admitted these things to Ren. One thing the man always possessed was ego.

Hux cleared his throat. “Supreme Leader.”

“General.”

So, at the very least Hux still held his title. Or perhaps Ren was giving him one final shred of dignity. Hux still didn’t know what Ren’s plan had been last night. Maybe he didn’t want to know. But he’d certainly find out what the man’s intention was now. Too many eyes were on Hux. The bridge was void of human sounds; just the hum of consoles. This was the moment of truth. Were they about to watch their newly appointed leader strike down the general? The youngest general of the First Order. The Starkiller.

“A word?”

Ren walked off without waiting for a response. Typical. Hux followed all the same. He’d prefer Ren berate him in private rather than in front of his crew. Ren’s pace was fast and Hux had to quicken his strides to keep up. Last night, the scent almost consumed Ren. It must have taken all his willpower to pull away. Hux hoped Ren could smell it now. He hoped that Ren was frustrated, pained at holding back. He hoped Ren was suffering.

Ren led Hux to an empty conference room, most likely picked at random. He entered, without looking back, and Hux followed. He stood by the door as it sealed him in with his Supreme Leader.

Ren turned. “Do you take me for a fool?”

“Never, Supreme Leader.”

“I know what you’re doing.”

Hux supposed it was a little too obvious. Petty, too. He could just picture the disgusted look on Brendol’s face if he saw what his son had resorted to. How typical of an omega, he’d say. Hux would have to disagree; omegas should take more advantage of the power they wield over others. The Order taught them to hide their scent, repress their heats, ignore their biology. Yet, it was only encouraged that alphas and betas took suppressants, not enforced, and their elders taught them the very basics of mating and hormonal cycles. Hux remembered being spoken to privately, after his first heat, about the contraception shoved into his hands, how to prevent himself from getting knocked up and ruining his life, dishonouring his family. As if it would be all his fault. He had to cover up his natural scent as to not distract his fellow peers. He had to avoid the other alphas where their ruts hit, rather than the other way around.

Hux knew there was power in being an omega. He knew since his first started showing the signs of his status; the lingering of his scent in the showers and how it apparently drove the other boys wild. The way they’d forget about they loathed him, and how chased after him like hungry dogs when their hormones were running high. Yes, there was an immense amount of power in being an omega. Hux intended to work it to his advantage.

“Supreme Leader,” he said, voice a mask of calm, “we have more important issues than that of my scent. For instance, the state of our faction in the hands of a new ruler.”

Ren slammed his fist on the table. Hux was expecting it; when Ren knew he couldn’t keep up an argument, he’d break things and shout. It was a pity because the man was intelligent and practical when need be. However, he’d been bested by a child twice, made a fool of in front of his men and saw his master slain. Allegedly. Hux would have to investigate that last part. The scavenger rat was powerful, but Hux knew of Ren’s simmering contempt for his master, though he had hidden it well.

“You think that’s all it will take to spare you?” Ren asked. “Sauntering around like a pathetic mutt seeking attention?”

“No. I think serving the First Order will spare me.”

Ren’s lip curled up, the scar on his cheek twisting with it. It was an ugly thing that never healed. “Where do your loyalties lie?”

_With myself_ , Hux thought. “With the Supreme Leader.”

He didn’t expect Ren to believe it. Hux didn’t mean it when he said it to Snoke either. Neither Ren’s nor Snoke’s idea of the First Order aligned with his own. The ambitious, hungry side of Hux merely craved the totalitarian power that came with the Order’s rise to rule. But there was a smaller part of him that wanted to respect his old mentor’s First Order, the one she raised from the ashes of the Empire. When Hux reached the throne, he wondered if he’d still be able to make Rae proud. Or if he’d even want to.

“You’re usually a better liar than this, General.”

“Shall I be blunter? Very well. I’m loyal to the Order. To the men I command.”

Ren took a step forward. “But not to me?”

“You haven’t proven yourself worthy of loyalty, Ren.”

Ren’s nose wrinkled in offence but after a moment his face smoothed out. He tilted his head. “You’re right.” He nodded. “I have a lot to prove. As do you.”

Hux almost cheered at the civility. Ren’s black temper from the Battle of Crait was dissipating. Perhaps Hux wouldn’t need to go through with his plan after all. Hux didn’t have much time to plead his case. Who knew when his rage would flare up again? “Leader Ren, I’m confident in the notion that you will dispose of me. Don’t. I’m valuable. You might wave me off as another droning officer but you should know better. I’m your next in command. Let me do my job and serve the Order.”

It had no doubt been a while since someone had spoken to Ren like that. The saber could come out at any moment. Hux tilted his head discretely, hoping his scent would do something to dull Ren’s rage. But Ren had wisely kept his distance this time.

“Right again, General,” Ren said. “You are invaluable. But you’re untrustworthy. I don’t want to have to keep an eye on you every waking moment.”

Hux knew that was only because Ren wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off him. That’s how it had been in the early years when they worked together. They’d plan some assault that Ren would be leading, leaning over a console together. They would grow tired and bored and hands would end up down trousers and the console would become nothing more than a hard surface to be fucked over. Those days were hazy and so long ago. But not awful.

“I assure you that I will give my all to the Order.”

Before Hux had time to comprehend what was happening, Ren’s hand was around his throat as Ren drove him up against the wall. Ren didn’t constrict his airflow but the grip was tight enough to send a firm warning.

“You’re on thin ice,” Ren said in a low voice. “Make no mistake of that. I don’t want you around, but I must admit that I need you—to keep up appearances and assure that this army runs smoothly. I don’t want you in my way. I want you seen and not heard. I want you to bow to my every will. Understand?”

“I understand, Supreme Leader.”

Hux understood quite well but he didn’t agree. He had no desire to bow down to Ren. The man was a lunatic with no other goal than to be the most powerful being in the galaxy. At least Hux wanted to bring order to the disarray amongst the planets. Ren didn’t seem to comprehend how much work went into ruling. He didn’t deserve the amount of firepower, the total strength at his fingertips with the Order backing him, nor would he use it to its fullest extent.

Ren tilted his head. “The Order is mine and I shall do with it as I please.”

“Get out of my head.”

“You can bitch all you like, General,” Ren continued, “but the fact of the matter is that I am in charge. That isn’t going to change. And if you think it will be so easy to kill me, I’d think twice about pulling out that blaster of yours. The Force protects me in ways you can’t imagine.”

Hux couldn’t help the eye roll, despite the threat against him. Here Ren goes with the Force once again.

“You need someone like me above you. A Force-null doesn’t deserve to rule anything. But the Force runs strong in my veins. Ruling is in my bloodline. You’re all beneath me.”

His best bet was to let Ren keep talking. He was prone to this; rambling on and on as if presenting a monologue to a theatre.

“Soon, you’ll learn your place. Soon you’ll see my vision.”

Ren’s fingers tightened a fraction and Hux sucked in a gasp. His own hands twitched as he shoved down the urge to fight back. Ren wouldn’t kill him. Just wait it out. Hold on. Stay calm. This wasn’t the worst he’d been through, not be far.

Finally, Ren released Hux and stepped back. “That will be all, General.”

Ren left without another word, leaving Hux rubbing at his throat.

* * *

That evening, Hux paced about his quarters once more, surprised to have survived another day.

He was mulling over what Ren had said. He’d made a very fixed point about his bloodline. When Hux thought over their conversation, his mind kept coming back to Ren’s words. Yes, the Force is very strong in his family. Or rather, was. Ren was undoubtedly one of the last Force users left, aside from the scavenger but she’d never join him. Hux didn’t know enough about the Knights of Ren to know what sort of power they wielded.

And, of course, Hux began to wonder if Ren would take up an heir. Would Ren scour the galaxy for someone to take his place or would he procure an heir with more natural means? The Supreme Leader would no doubt produce strong, willful offspring that he could mould into his little minions. They’d run amok just as he did and take his place as ruler when the time came. All Ren needs is some omega to whelp and keep alive for nine months. Then the Order would indeed be doomed.

Hux had to intervene.

Or rather, put himself in the forefront of the situation. It was much more long-term than his original plan. A life sentence. And there was no telling how Ren would react. Not to mention it was tough to pull off without Ren knowing. Hux would have to take every precaution, play all his cards right, and have a fair amount of luck.

And what would it mean for the Order? A plan like this could put him out of commission for quite some time. With Ren in charge, the military would fall into chaos, no doubt. It was very impractical, especially during wartime. However, he had to make tough decisions in these trying times.

Besides, this would give Hux a sort of invincibility. If all went according to plan, it might even protect him from Ren’s temper.

He was going to go through with it.

Before he could talk himself out of it, he marched into the ‘fresher. He took the small bottle of tablets from the counter. He didn’t look at his reflection. If he did, he’d surely come to his senses. Instead, he left the room and tossed his birth control into the garbage disposal.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow next chapter. Thanks to [demi](https://twitter.com/kyluxxhell) for being my beta and cheerleader.

Chapter 2

Hux hadn’t missed a suppressant administration since his youth. He had an appointment in the infirmary every three standard months for a shot. He found that they were the most efficient method, compared to the pills. He already took a multi and, up until recently, birth control. He also took a lot of stims. More than he admitted to his doctor. A quick shot of a double strength heat suppressant every few months gave Hux one less thing to worry about on the daily.

Perhaps it was merely placebo but he was noticing changes after the first week. His uniform collar was a hint too restrictive. There was a tingle when he turned his head too far, right over his scent gland. Or at least, where he assumed it was. Since he’d been on suppressants, he’d never understood the glamour around scents. Everyone smelled the same to him. And the idea of people getting off on scents was utterly barbaric to him. What was an attractive smell? Sweat and sex didn’t smell particularly grand.

But apparently, the lack of scent neutralisers was doing something because he was still turning heads. Officers glanced over then quickly looked away upon recognising their superior. Hux was glad his staff had some collected form of dignity. As a cadet, his elders taught him that if he didn’t cover his scent, he’d have everyone panting after him like desperate dogs. That was appealing to his egotistical, youthful self. However, he was almost disappointed that it wasn’t the case at all. His officers had a lot of self-control. Good. That’s what he wanted in an efficient military organisation. They wouldn’t get anywhere if they were too busy lusting over each other.

Still, that meant his grand scheme to seduce the Supreme Leader might fall through. Hux didn’t want to do something so drastic for naught.

Hux entered the key for Ren’s office and stepped inside.  It was impeccably neat, with close to no personalisation. How very interesting since Ren called the officers 'mindless drones'. Their offices showed off their awards, holos of their families, their favourite mugs. Their offices allowed them the little amount of individuality that the Order permitted. Personalisation could all too easily slip into unprofessionalism.

However, the only personal touch to Ren’s office was his cape hazardously draped across his chair. Hux despised the thing. It was like the greatcoat of the senior officers. Sleek and formal but too ostentatious. Purely for theatrics. For someone who supposedly didn’t care about the opinion of others, Ren took great pride in his appearance. Not that that was necessarily a bad thing; a good leader needed to look presentable. Hux hardly thought it was appropriate nor reasonable that Ren should be parading around the _Finalizer_ with his luscious hair and his cape billowing behind him like he was on a damn runaway. Hux knew the types of models that the large fashion industries advertised across the galaxy. The tall, brooding men with dark eyes in dark clothes. It was the current trend. More than once Hux had browsed the editorials with one hand down his trousers. Ren would fit right in with those models.

Focus. He was already pressed for time as it was. Ren was currently on the bridge. The obsessive twat was running yet another series of tests for the aerial offence. A proud and talented pilot himself, Ren wanted to ensure their aerial strike team was of the utmost prestige and accuracy. The practice field was some poor mining planet whose resources had almost entirely diminished. Hux wasn’t sure if they evacuated the planet before the bombing runs began. He didn't care either way.

Ren could grow bored of watching the explosions any moment now. He didn’t have a schedule, so Hux also ran the risk of offices having meetings with the Supreme Leader. The last thing he needed was a witness catching him leaving Ren’s office.

Hux picked up the cape. It was a heavy material, expensive, not that Ren would admit it. He was apparently above material possessions. Although he always demanded the latest upgrades to his Silencer, frequent replacements of his boots and gloves, the highest quality hair products, the list went on. A walking hypocrite if Hux ever saw one.

He held the cape to his nose and sniffed. Nothing. He took another whiff, trying to picture Ren in his mind. Honestly, what did an alpha smell like? Hux hadn’t the faintest clue. And now he doubted his plan.

He’d overheard officers mentioning their attire smelling of their mates, typically in approval. The idea was unappealing to Hux. Why would you want to smell like someone else? But according to the holo-porn he watched, the big, brawny alphas went wild when their cute omegas rub themselves all over their clothes. Ren was as feral and virile as the men in those films. Surely this would work on him.

Hux tugged the cape over his shoulders; not without difficulty considering the weight. How did Ren manage to toss it on with such a flourish? It weighed down Hux’s shoulders more than his greatcoat did, made worse by the tight fit of his uniform jacket. Damn, Ren just had to be good at everything, didn’t he?

Hux looked at his reflection in the viewport. The cape drowned him but the silhouette was still flattering. He cut a sharp figure wearing it; it made him look large and dangerous. It made him look like a ruler. Now all he needed was a crown. No doubt Ren would receive a crown upon his coronation. Hux still had to arrange that. He had to arrange the one thing he craved above all else for a man he utterly loathed. Perhaps this plan of his would earn him a lovely circlet or something similar. Temporary, of course, until he could dispose of Ren and claim the true crown for himself.

He was procrastinating. He had no idea what he was supposed to do. He couldn’t tell the difference between Ren’s scent and his own. How did he know when it was enough? Had his scent transferred already?

Hux lifted a section of the cape to his cheek. He rubbed the fabric against his skin. It was softer than he expected. Dense and warm and comforting. It reminded him of the thick blankets of his childhood that kept out the bitter cold. Whenever he was permitted to have one.

He caught sight of his reflection and dropped the fabric, feeling like a fool. Could this really work? Ren’s initial reaction Hux’s lack of now and then was a strong one but the second was quite lacklustre. He wasn’t expecting Ren to throw himself at his feet—though the mental image was very pleasing. However, given Ren’s volatile nature, Hux expected Ren to struggle with his restraint just a little. Ren had almost lost his composure in Hux’s quarters after the Battle of Crait. It drove all the fury out of him. He’d been staring at Hux’s neck like it was the most delectable dessert. Ren held back. He had more self-control than Hux gave him credit for.

With an irritated sigh, he wrapped the cape around himself, staring out the viewport. Honestly, the things he did to stay on top. He brought the fabric to his face once more and dragged it around his skin awkwardly. He still couldn’t smell any difference.

Before he could further embarrass himself, Hux threw the cape back over Ren’s chair, arranging it how he remembered it sat. Once satisfied, he backed up a few steps and surveyed the office just to check he left no trace of his visit. Ren didn’t have enough belongings in the room for anything to be out of place. He left, secure in the knowledge his visit would go unnoticed.

* * *

That evening, Hux curled up on his couch with his datapad and a steaming cup of tarine tea. He’d finished his official work for the night; documents signed, reports reviewed and meetings organised. His boots were polished, his greatcoat dry-cleaned and hung in his wardrobe. He’d had a quick dinner of rehydrated vegetables and a protein bar. Now it was time to take care of personal business.

Blowing on his mug, Hux opened the security channel and entered his clearance code. With unlimited access all footage on the ship, it took a moment to narrow down the results. He searched for the superior officers’ offices on the alpha deck and scrolled until he came across the footage he was looking for. Room 134, Deck A, SL REN. His office was no different from anyone else’s. He wasn’t like Snoke. He didn’t need nor want grand chambers and large throne rooms. Even if he did, the _Supremacy_ was undergoing extensive repairs and would be out of commission for a long time. They were lucky it was even salvageable.

Hux opened the file and scrubbed through the footage until he came across himself entering the room. He neatly trimmed the footage until he erased himself, without any blips in the timestamp. It was doubtful that anyone would review this but he wouldn’t take the chance.

He continued to scrub until Ren entered the office. Once he did, Hux adjusted the volume and sat back, sipping his tea. Ren walked to his console and sat down without looking at his cape. He turned on his holo-screen, pulled up a keyboard and began to type. No doubt filing a report for the bomb run. Hux would surely have a dozen pages to review soon. Let it not be said that Ren wasn’t thorough in his evaluations. Hux grew bored after a few minutes and sped up the playback. All Ren did was type and take a few holo-calls and stretch occasionally. At least he wasn’t just lounging around while everyone worked around him. They didn’t need another leader like that.

Finally, Ren stood. Hux slowed the footage to the regular speed, hands wrapped around his mug tightly. He leant close to his screen, eager to see what became of his plan.

Ren rolled his neck a few times before shutting off his console. He took his cape off his chair and threw it over his shoulders with a dramatic flick that Hux wanted to learn how to do himself. Ren adjusted the cape and then stopped. He stood rigid in place for a few moments, then looked around the room. Hux zoomed in, wanting a better look at Ren’s reaction. Ren’s brows were pulled down, lips parted. Hux wasn’t sure the last time he saw a look of pure confusion on the man’s place. Probably back during his beginnings in the First Order, when everything was foreign and clinical to his dreamy New Republican upbringing.

Finally, Ren moved, taking a fistful of the fabric and bringing it to his face. He held it against his nose, eye shutting slowly. His shoulders lifted then fell in a loud exhale.

Did it work?

Ren looked around the room again, the cape still held at his face. He nosed at the fabric again, fist balled tight. He was still a while longer, doing nothing but taking long, deep breaths. Then he marched out of the room.

Hux smiled to himself. He chalked that little experiment up as a success. Ren would have no proof of Hux’s tampering. Suspicion, yes, if he recognised Hux’s scent but there was no reliable evidence. And it was unlikely Ren would make a fool of himself by accusing Hux on the mere claim that he could smell Hux. He had too much pride to admit something so trivial was a distraction to him.

Hux sat back and sipped his tea. Victory, however small it was, was an incredible feeling. His plan was a slow one but this gave him confidence that he could quite possibly succeed. He had no idea when his first heat would arrive—it was difficult to predict considering it’d been almost two decades since he’d had one—be he wagered he at least had a few months. He’d have to be careful trying this again. It couldn’t be too soon. Perhaps in a fortnight or so he’d try again. He’d get Ren addicted to his scent without even touching him.

Hux put on a trashy holo-drama and enjoyed his evening.

* * *

Hux tapped his finger on the desk, mindlessly scrolling through his holo-net feed while he waited for the meeting to commence. His eyes lingered on a few of the ads for Order sanctioned resorts the officers could visit on shore leave. He could use a damn vacation. He continued to scroll. Most personal posts he came across were mourning all those lost over the past few weeks. The rest were ads encouraging those who hadn’t to enlist in the military. Well, they did need to fill in the gaps of those missing if the Order was to remain functional. Though Hux did find the vengeance tactics being implemented far too personal for the principles of the Order.

It was the first official High Command meeting since the firing of Starkiller. There had been a string of emergency meetings, done mostly via hologram, with the officers organising evacuations and medical aid to the thousands who needed it. Those meetings were filled with shouting and accusations and desperate attempts to shove the blame on someone else. Since Hux only had Ren to worry about, he sat back during these meetings, hoping the officers plotted against each other so he didn’t have to do as much work. With Snoke gone, Hux had a chance to weed out the officers he despised and replace them with a more loyal group. Phasma was dead, so he had very few allies left, and even she would have stabbed him in the back to save her skin.

There was a time when he contemplated Ren as an ally, back when the knight was first integrated into the Order. The few times Hux engaged with him, Ren appeared grateful just to have someone to talk to, someone who wasn’t mindless and boring, like so many of the officers were. But Ren proved to be too volatile, cracking a joke with Hux one day and cursing him out the next. Ren was at war with himself and Snoke’s meddling didn’t help. Even their few romps in bed couldn’t win Ren over to his side. They saw right through each other, knew how the other wanted to use them. They barely had an ounce of trust for the other and even that they misused. Hux quickly forgot about using Ren as an ally. Ren’s head was too far up his arse to consider forming a partnership with a Force-null.

That’s why he wanted that girl. She and Ren were as different as day and night but Force users came too few and far between these days. The girl was probably Ren’s last chance in seeking out an ally and he royally fucked that up. It would have been better for the Order if Ren had never brought that scavenger brat to Starkiller Base in the first place, but a petty side of Hux took glee in the fact that Ren suffered so viciously from meeting her. Hux also took delight in seeing the wounds she inflicted upon Ren. He supposed he even had her to thank for the death of Snoke—though Hux had a lot of doubts about that. Funny how one girl was the catalyst for so much damage but Hux knew enough about the Force to know that’s typically how these things went.

Ren finally entered the conference room. He was ten minutes late but Hux hadn’t even expected him to show up. He hadn’t made an appearance during the emergency meetings and when Snoke was in charge, he just had Hux relay all the information from the meeting to him. High Command had waited anyway and a good thing they did. Ren would surely take offence if the meeting began without him, despite his tardiness.

Ren’s entrance was met with silence. Most of these officers were seeing him for the first time since crowning himself Supreme Leader. And some still were seeing him without his helmet for the first time. He was recognisable enough, in his black doublet and heavy cape.

His heavy cape that smelt strongly of the standard issue washing detergent.

Hux set down his datapad and steepled his fingers. “Leader Ren, welcome.”

Ren said nothing and took a seat on the opposite side of the table to Hux but didn’t look at him. Hux struggled not to smile.

“Shall we begin, Supreme Leader?” Hux urged.

“Yes, begin. Don’t waste my time.”

Hux nodded and looked around the table. High Command was made up of thirty superior officers, many of those who served under the Empire and were around for the birth of the Order. There were currently twenty-one officers in the conference room, including Hux and Ren, and another five officers attending the meeting via hologram. Three had been injured during the attack on the Supremacy and one had been aboard one of the destroyers that had been obliterated by the attack. Thirty was far too many in Hux’s opinion and it was a pity more of them hadn’t perished.

“I thought I’d start by presenting an update on the restoration of the _Supremacy_.” Hux opened the files on his datapad and send the schematics of the damaged ship to the projection screen above the table. The hologram of the _Supremacy_ expanded about them. There was no longer debris but still a clear separation between the right wing and the rest of the ship. “As far as we know, all fires have been put out and all remains have been removed. The survival rate of those aboard was a solid seventy-eight percent, thanks to the evacuation procedures sanctioned by Leader Snoke.”

“Do not speak his name,” Ren cut in sharply, hand curling into a fist upon the table.

“Apologies. By our late Supreme Leader.”

“Long live the Supreme Leader,” a few officers chimed in, wary eyes on Ren.

“As I was saying,” Hux said, “the survival rate was exceedingly high, all things considered, though that doesn’t count those aboard the star destroyers, of course. As you know, the memorial service for the fallen personnel is at the end of the fortnight. I trust you have your speeches prepared?”

There was a murmur of agreements and a few nods.

“What’s the ETC on the restoration of the _Supremacy_?” asked Admiral Pryde, standing up and surveying the hologram.

“The _Supremacy_ should be back in commission in about a year,” Hux said.

Every pair of eyes were on him.

“A year?” Pryde spluttered, leaning over the conference table. “You can’t be serious.”

Hux inhaled and glanced at the ceiling. “Yes, a year, perhaps more. The _Supremacy_ is very large and an abundance of our production lines and raw materials were aboard the ship. We lost more than just soldiers. We lost resources that we would need to rebuild the ship.”

“This never would have happened if we had a planet as our capital,” said Peavey sourly.

“We can acquire as many planets as we desire once we’ve gained the territory we need. The Resistance has no backing and what’s left of the New Republic would sooner join us than fight alongside that band of traitors.”

“The general is right.” Ren rose from his chair and walked around the table, studying the hologram. “The ship has suffered a great amount of damage. We should be grateful that it is repairable. Gravity and oxygen levels are normal and every opening has been sealed. The damage control team has cleared all the debris and recovered what resources they can. Construction has only just begun.”

Well, it looks like Ren had been doing his homework.

“There is the topic of cost,” Hux said, turning to the Order’s financial advisor.

Major Veran sat up straight. “Yes, sir. I’ve been drawing up some numbers. I haven’t received the full damage and resource list, so it’s all just estimates.”

“And what are these estimates?”

Veran turned on her datapad and sent the spreadsheet to the projector. She couldn’t even bear to say the numbers aloud. When Hux saw them, he couldn’t blame her. The officers around him muttered. It wasn’t nearly as expensive as the initial cost of the _Supremacy_ but it was still a hefty amount.

“Looks like we’ll have to be extra friendly towards our benefactors.”

“Speaking of the benefactors,” Veran continued, in a tone that sounded like she didn’t want to speak of them at all, “we’ve received communications from several of them, many of them threatening to pull out from supporting us.”

“Why?” asked Captain Peavey.

Hux clenched his fists. “No doubt because of the debacle on Canto Bight, where the traitor and his resistance allies tore up the casino.”

Veran nodded. “Quite right. They’ve suffered losses themselves.”

Admiral Pryde sat back down, scowling. “So, what are we to do?”

“We make them loyal,” Ren said.

“It’s a known fact that many of our benefactors and traders also supply to the Resistance,” chimed in Colonel Leaux. “Many of our backers consider themselves to be neutral. It’s just business to them.”

His tone was so matter-of-fact that Hux had to bite his tongue to stop from snapping. It wasn’t any way to address one’s Supreme Leader. Even though Hux addressed Ren that way all the time. He was a lot more respectful when Ren was onto something. Leaux would be one of the superior officers to go.

“Then we don’t allow them to be neutral,” Hux said. “Surely this incident would be enough to turn them against supplying to the Resistance.”

“We’ll make them swear fealty,” Ren said.

“And if they refuse to do so?” Peavy asked, looking between the two of them as if he were reprimanding children.

Ren walked over to Peavy’s chair, bending over the older man. “Then perhaps Canto Bight can be one of the first planets we take under the control of the new Supreme Leader.”

Peavy didn’t even flinch at Ren’s presence. He was another one of them who had to go.

“On that subject, Leader Ren,” said Admiral Starkos via hologram, “we have successfully secured the Erilia System. There was little resistance once we promised them protection.”

Ren pulled away from Peavey and continued to walk around the room. “Excellent work, Admiral. Good to know someone is providing results.”

Hux wasn’t expecting that. Not only had Ren read up on the discussion points of the meeting, but he was taking the lead and offering praise to those showing results. That was more than Snoke had ever done. There was still time for Ren to lose his temper.

“The Erilia System has no military,” Pryde said. “They’re a planet of retired aristocrats with a few boarding schools and farms.”

“The royal family is very wealthy,” Major Veran cut in. “The soil on the planets is rich in nutrients, so they’ve made most their money from produce, which is always in high demand. They may not have a military or precious minerals but they have wealth.”

Hux nodded. “It’s wealth we need. We have weapons—the majority aboard the _Supremacy_ are in good condition. And perhaps their crops can feed our soldiers if they’re so nutrient dense.”

Ren returned to the head of the table. “With the New Republic government gone, the First Order has the largest fleet in the galaxy. The systems will come flocking to use for protection. We will align the disarray in the galaxy. We will reclaim all the territory that once belonged to the Galactic Empire and beyond. We will tame the Unknown Regions. No one will dare stand with the Resistance.”

A shiver ran up Hux’s spine. This was the sort of dirty talk Ren used to mutter to him in the beginning. When they were younger and drunk off lust and power. There was a time they were foolish enough to think they could take the galaxy together. It was all rubbish, of course. All in the moment. It had stopped years ago.

The officers murmured in agreement and Ren sat back down.

“Shall we continue to our next point of discussion?” Hux asked.

The meeting was relatively uneventful after that. Veran gave a more detailed breakdown of their financial status and offered some suggestions on how they should rework their budget. A lot of their resources would go into the restoration of the _Supremacy_ and the training of new soldiers. Then there was discussion the most viable planets to claim first. They decided to tackle the wealthy ones, those with corrupt governments and deep investments in the trades. The Order needed funds more than it required military reinforcements. Who was there left to oppose them?

One by one, the superior officers bowed their heads and murmured praise and well-wishes to their Supreme Leader. Most of them barely spared Hux a second glance before they stormed out of the conference room. Major Veran politely told him that she’d forward their proposed budget to him by the end of the day. Her voice was soft and empty. There was no kindness in it, just duty. He doubted she respected him any more than the rest of High Command did but he was her superior and she was a diligent officer. He admired that. He didn’t want pity nor friendship. He wanted results.

The stream of bodies turned to a trickle and soon Ren and Hux were the only two left. Hux pointedly looked at Ren, demanded his attention, those hard, dark eyes on him.

Ren did look at him, for a very brief moment. His eyes were black and bottomless and cold. They were deadlights it an empty galaxy, dragging you closer and snuffing you out. Hux couldn’t comprehend why Ren wore a helmet, with eyes like that. Ren was easier to insult, easier to boss around when that venomous expression wasn’t cast upon him.

Ren stared. Then he picked up his datapad and walked away. His cape snapped behind him, and Hux caught the scent of the washing detergent once again. His experiment was a success. Ren had been affected by his smell. Hux could always bring up the security footage to Ren’s quarters and check how he reacted in the comfort of his own quarters. It felt unnecessary, however; Hux knew what he needed to know. In time, he’d move forward with his plan once more.

* * *

Hux did not believe in karma but three weeks after that High Command meeting, he felt as though it existed purely to spite him. He cursed the workings of the galaxy and all who inhabited as he lay on his bed, flushed and panting, legs spread and fingers pistoning in and out of his wet hole. The bed covers were soaked and reeked of sex. He wasn’t in heat, as far as he knew. There was no desire to breed or be knotted or any of that nonsense. There was just a burning, consuming hunger that wouldn’t let up until he came once or twice or several times.

It was all Ren’s fault. Wasn’t everything?

Hux was beginning to wonder if his suppressants were wearing off at all. It must have been a prolonged rate if they were. He didn’t feel any different and that didn’t bode well for his plans. He’d been researching how to induce heats but that might have been more trouble than it was worth. According to what he found on the holonet, triggered heats and ruts most often happens between mates or two persons who were scent drunk. Neither of those situations seemed at all pleasant to Hux and so he decided he wouldn’t risk it. He wouldn’t put himself in such a vulnerable position and Ren wouldn’t mate him if he were the last man in the galaxy.

Not long after, Hux found out they were indeed wearing off. He made this discovery while awaiting the return of Leader Ren and his flight squadron. Ren still insisted in throwing himself into the fray with his men and that was fine by Hux—perhaps he’d get killed out there. Hux would become Supreme Leader more sooner. Alas, Ren was an undoubtedly talented pilot and came back successful each time.

This time, Ren returned after an attack on the navy defences of the planet Qaelia. Ren’s squadron merely took out a few of the planet’s offence ships. It was a threat. The Order could do so much damage but if Qaelia’s government surrendered willingly, then they’d have the backing of the very navy that gave its citizens a little fireworks show. It was Ren’s idea and it worked exceedingly well with only two casualties compared to the annihilation of the half dozen targeted ships of their foes. Hux watched from the hanger as the ships burnt up in the planet’s atmosphere. Even he couldn’t argue with the results.

The Silencer landed neatly in its allocated spot. Hux stood at attention with two other superior officers and a squadron of troopers. Ren emerged from the cockpit, smug and triumphant. He schooled his features when he caught sight of the officers and descended from his ship.

And then the scent hit Hux. Hux couldn’t remember smelling it before. It was foreign and yet familiar. It was the undeniable and overwhelming scent of an alpha. For a moment, Hux understood all the fuss. He wanted to climb into the Silencer and indulge in that toxic aroma. He wanted to pull Ren on top of him, present for him, demand Ren take him right then and there, in front of the whole damn crew. He wanted to show everyone that they belonged to one another. There was a hot, slick sensation between his legs and he clenched around nothing.

Then the moment passed and Hux was utterly disgusted with himself. How could he allow himself to lose control, even for a few moments?

Ren stood before the officers, tilting his head. Hux wanted to back away. They could all smell it, he knew it. His heavy, needy, omega aroma. Could they smell Ren too? That dominance, that absolute, smothering power. Hux should give up his plans, take the highest dose of heat suppressants possible and never be in the same room alone with Ren again. He’d never survive. It was distracting, Hux couldn’t get it out of his head. He loathed his status. He loathed the stream of lies told to him, the drugs given to him, the way they built up and shielded him from every natural instinct inside him. That barrier had broken. The reality was hitting him like a storm and he had nothing to protect himself. He was clueless and defenceless.

After a hasty excusal, Hux made his way back to his quarters. He had barely stripped before he was on his bed, humping a pillow and cursing Ren. Slick smeared his thighs and he was flushed down to his chest. There was a burning, bubbling sensation between his legs, exploding all the way up to his stomach. It wasn’t unpleasant and not entirely unfamiliar. When Ren was in his bed, Hux was quite content, almost completely satisfied some nights.

Ren was the last person he should be thinking of.

Hux groaned loudly, withdrawing his fingers and rolling onto his back. He should just take a cold shower and be done with it. How could he let such a fleeting moment take such control of him?

Only it wasn’t fleeting. Ren’s scent was burned into Hux’s memory. He really had been missing out on a lot. He was a fool to assume that he could just come off decades of suppressants and expect things to go smoothly. He was putting too much at risk to give up now. He might not ever be able to regulate his body again; he was throwing away years of the resistance he’d built up to the hormonal reactions his status was supposedly cursed with.

It wasn’t bothersome so much as it was distracting. In all honestly, Ren smelt amazing. The instantaneous reaction from his body was something he hadn’t experienced since his sub-adult years. Something was thrilling about it. Something debauching. Ren smelt like sweat and ash and dirt. Implausible and unpleasant in theory but in that moment, it was just so right. He wondered what he smelt like to others. He’d have to get Ren to describe it to him. That shouldn’t be too hard once he’s bedded Ren.

Hux’s stomach flipped at the thought. He bit his lip and fisted his cock, the head drooling freely onto his stomach. He ached for Ren. For that handful of nights, they had when things were almost good. Perhaps it wasn’t necessarily Ren he wanted, merely the idea of Ren. The memories. The brooding knight with strong hands and a permanent pout. The way Ren’s knot felt inside of him, the way Ren would snap his hips, the way he’d groan as Hux rode him. Little things, not the whole package.

The whole package that was Ren was an utter nightmare. Hux should separate himself from Ren at all costs, not fantasising about him while he jacked off. If he were practical, he’d have transferred from his own ship to escape Ren, instead of conjuring up a risky plan that involved getting close to his Supreme Leader. However, Hux was not always practical. He just wanted to survive.

As Ren’s scent faded from his mind, Hux’s wank session grew more desperate and pathetic with each stroke. He became all too aware of the fact that he was touching himself over a man who loathed him. Every day Hux hit a new low. Surely, he was at rock bottom by now.

He finished himself off quickly, coming for the last time of the night. He bit his lip bloody to ensure he wouldn’t cry out a certain alpha’s name. For a moment he just laid there, sweaty and red, stomach coated in come. Truly the prime image of a general of the First Order. He didn’t allow himself to mope for too long. He climbed out of bed and hopped into the shower, washing away his come and frustrations and dignity. 

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/leshimonster) and [tumblr](http://thesunandoceanblue.tumblr.com/) <3


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